The Reason for the Season
by PotentialTempest
Summary: Christmas is Sookie's favorite holiday. Eric suffers through it.


Summary: Christmas is Sookie's favorite holiday. Eric suffers through it.

Author's Note: Written for my love, as an incentive for her to finish her work. Happy Christmas, darling.

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine; I'm not making money off this, etc.

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Eric has let hundreds of Christmases pass without meaning. In the more recent past, he has allowed Pam to capitalize on the holiday for the sake of business, but he refuses to indulge himself.

In his human days, he was a man of a few, simple beliefs. He believed in women, and war, and could occasionally be convinced to admit he believed in The Gods. He wasn't picky, didn't have favorites. But if pressed, he would acknowledge their existence.

Now? Well, now, Eric is never pressed. Except by her – that foolish human girl. But she has not asked him this. He is not sure what he would say; for the most part, his belief system has fallen by the wayside. What need has he for a god? He is nigh invincible. The gods have more need for him.

And of the selfish gifting rituals? Eric has no need for those either. He buys himself what he wants, when he wants.

And so Christmas passes mostly unnoticed. But this year? Oh, it had to be the year it snowed in Louisiana, the first time in over two decades. Of course. Nothing could have had Sookie more excited. Eric, he scowled and trudged through it, as he did so many other things. Sookie, she laughed, delighted, and ran out to catch snowflakes on her tongue. Eric watched her dance freely, and if he were a more sentimental man, it would have melted his frozen heart – except, of course, that it was below freezing outside.

Who knew that Sookie would leap into the spirit of the season with all the enthusiasm of an elf? If she wasn't making snow angels, she was baking Christmas treats or stringing lights up. After she had decorated her own home, she insisted on doing Sam's, as well, and when she turned eagerly to Eric, he was powerless to stop her.

Fangtasia was full of lights and Christmas carols – even glamoured patrons began to complain. The exterior of Eric's coffin was lined with garland. Every doorway he stepped through contained mistletoe.

"When does this blasted season end?" he had complained, last night.

She had just laughed. "You're such a Grinch," she told him.

"I am no such thing," he retorted. "That's not even a thing."

She looked at him suspiciously. "You've never seen 'The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,' have you?"

"Of course not," he replied, affronted. "That doesn't even make sense. Whatever a 'Grinch' is, they cannot steal Christmas. It's an idea, not an object," he clarified for her.

"Oh, are you in for a treat!" And with that, Sookie ran downstairs to the den.

"Aren't you coming?" she yelled when he did not follow immediately. He followed.

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"What an implausible story," he scoffed. She looked at him, scandalized. "What kind of furry, green creature can communicate with humans like that?"

"You know, for a mythical creature, you sure are close-minded when it comes to fiction," she teased, rolling her eyes. "Well, _I _enjoyed it, at least. Time for cookies!" She jumped up and began to bustle into the kitchen.

"Oh no, Miss Stackhouse. Not on my watch." He pulled her back to the couch and held her flush against him. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her once. "Come on, Sookie, sit with me," he asked, his voice a caress.

Her eyes dropped to his lips. She relaxed against him. Her head dipped towards his – "No, Eric, really, I need to prep for tomorrow!" She pushed against his chest and wiggled to escape his grasp.

"Moving like that is not going to get you anywhere, Eric growled, and his lips latched onto her neck. She sighed and leaned into him once more, her arms sliding around him. But as soon as his hands disappeared under her sweater, she pulled away.

"Eric, really! I have things to do! Let go," she commanded.

He did not. "Come on, Sookie, I just watched that entire movie for you and everything."

"Is that the only reason you sat through it with me?" she demanded. "To get some?"

"Of course not," he replied smoothly, running his hands up and down her back. "I sat through it with you because I love you. But I thought I'd at least get something out of it."

"Very sweet," she said dryly. But her lips twitched. She was always taken when he talked like that.

"You're so exuberant at this time of year," he cajoled. "I hoped you'd share it with me."

"Mmm," she replied intelligently, leaning forward to kiss him softly. She clutched at his arm with one hand, her other tangled in his hair, and ground against him momentarily –

Sookie remembered herself and pulled away. He growled threateningly, but she ignored it. "I have to prepare for tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly, standing and straightening her clothes.

He harrumphed. "What's tomorrow, anyway?"

"Eric!" she cried. "Christmas Eve! I told you ages ago. I'm having a holiday party and you agreed to come by afterward to exchange gifts! Don't tell me you've forgotten."

Of course he had. "Of course I haven't. I just didn't realize it took so much preparation on your part," he lied.

"I just want everything to be perfect," Sookie declared, eyes shining.

He kissed her hand and tugged gently. "It will be if you're hosting it," he said.

"Eric Northman, I am not getting back on that couch," she said sternly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, rising gracefully and tucking her hand into his elbow. "Now, what are we making?" he asked, effectively distracting her.

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After they baked for what seemed like ages to Eric – or, rather, Sookie baked and Eric amused himself trying to fool her by switching up the ingredients she was using and rubbing up against her as she tried to work – Sookie popped in another Christmas movie for them to watch, feeling as if her beau had _a lot_ to catch up on.

Eric had other ideas, but when his hands strayed too far, she slapped them away, refusing to "desecrate her childhood by fooling around while Miracle on 34th Street is playing!" Eventually she fell asleep, and he carried her to her room, resisting the temptation to have a taste as she lay all vulnerable before him.

------

When Eric returned the next night, the music was still blaring and the front door was open. He tried to sneak in unobtrusively, but Sookie met him at the door, throwing herself at him and kissing him enthusiastically.

_Mm, that's more like it,_ he thought, pulling her closer and moving his mouth to her bared shoulder.

"Eric! We still have guests!" she chastised, pulling away.

"You started it," he muttered. She pointed above them to the mistletoe, as if to deflect blame. "Oh, like you didn't put that there on purpose," he retorted. She ignored him, righting her Santa hat, and led him to the kitchen, where Sam, Tara, and Jason were gathered. He nodded to them politely, but didn't say anything. Sookie nudged him. "Try to be a bit better than civil. It's Christmas!" she hissed in his ear.

He smiled charmingly on command. "Merry Christmas."

"You, too, vamp," Jason replied. "We were about to leave."

"Sookie was just offering a night cap," Sam added. "Too bad you can't join us for some good old-fashioned eggnog."

"Judging by the smell, I'm not missing out on anything," he said, wrinkling his nose.

"I'm with you there, Blondie," Tara said. She raised her glass of brandy to him. "Stuff's nasty."

"Well, aren't you a couple of party poopers!" Sookie exclaimed, already slightly tipsy.

Tara chuckled. "I'd say it's about time we get going, so as not to rain on Blondie's parade. They'll have them a Merry Christmas," she added suggestively.

"Tara! Gross! That's my baby sister!" Jason yelped.

"Oh, don't act so innocent, you priss," Tara rejoined, rolling her eyes.

"Come on, you two," Sam interjected, ushering them out. "Y'all have a good night now," he added somewhat stiffly.

"Good night you three!" Sookie called as they exited. "Merry Christmas!"

"Finally," Eric whispered as they shut the door behind them. He stepped closer to his human, pulling her by the hips. He looked into her eyes before slowly lowering his lips to hers.

But once again, she broke away. "Look at the time! Eric, it's almost midnight! Almost Christmas!"

"And it'll be Christmas later, too. No harm in putting it on hold for a couple of hours."

"Eric!" she scolded. "It's tradition. Don't you want to open your present at midnight?"

He huffed. "Of course, Sookie. There's nothing I'd rather be doing five minutes from now," he lied complacently.

She grinned. "That's what I thought. Now you wait in the front room. I'll be right down with your gift." She bounded happily up the stairs.

Eric sat on the armchair by the tree, affording himself the best view of the stairway as he waited for Sookie to come down.

"Are you ready?" she called after a few long minutes.

"Of course," he responded impatiently.

He heard the click of her heels on the staircase and sat up straighter, more alert. As she came into view, he growled possessively: she was wearing a very small replica of Saint Nick's uniform that would not do her any good out in the snow.

The red, lacy bustier was trimmed in white fur, as was the tiny red skirt around her hips. Thigh high boots accentuated her legs, and she topped it all off with her jaunty hat from earlier. She stopped to pose on the last step, a twinkle in her eye. "Merry Christmas, boyfriend."

Eric grinned predatorily. "Is this my gift?"

She nodded. "Do you like it?"

"Is it all for me?"

"It is."

"I like it very much." A pause, and then he was up so quickly she could hardly see him before he was picking her up and carrying her to the couch. She made room for him between her legs and he settled in. But he paused. "Are you sure you don't have anywhere else to be? Nothing to do? No pressing engagements?"

She laughed. "No, nothing."

"Then it is a very Merry Christmas indeed."

And it was.


End file.
